"You're here again?"

The dark haired woman shifted her head towards the man behind the counter. He was wiping down a mug, his brow quirking at her presence and his lips pursed.

She looked at the male, matching his raised brow and pushing a little attitude into the quick tipping of her head. "Hey hey, now..." She began, coiling a few fingers into her short wavy locks and propping her other elbow up on the counter surface, "...ain't you supposed to be nice to your customers? I'm a regular."

The man's eyes went lithe with bemusement, a dull stare lining his half-lidded eyes, "You been comin' around here for six, seven years and you never buy a thing."

"Nonsense~," a coy smirk played at her lips as she turned her eye behind her, taking a look at all of the possible men she had at her disposal. A good selection of them didn't come with women - but then in most cases it was usually a surprise to see a proper, cleaned up Marleyan woman knocking bar stools with the boys.

"Hey, mister," She spoke up, peeping over her shoulder, and batting her eyes at one of the idle men she set her pale green gaze upon, "I know it may be a lot to ask, but you wouldn't mind buying a lady a drink, would ya?"

A silence took to him as he looked around at the other occupants in the room as if trying to discern if it was really him that she was talking to. Upon coming to the realization, he bounded up to his feet, haphazardly scooting his chair under the table, and heading over. He dug through his money, out and in his hand, then placed a portion on the counter, looking to the bartender, "Ah- a drink... for the lady, sir."

The woman played an endearing smile on her lips, "Oh, thank you so much." Though in her mind, all she could think was how silly he seemed to be.

'Tugging all his money out of his pocket in front of a room of strangers...' She thought beneath the surface. He was clearly so inexperienced that it hurt, but it almost hurt her heart and her pride to think she would be preying on him that way; she would let him slip this time, besides he had already bought her a drink.

The bartender briskly rolled his eyes, "What'll you have?"

"Hee~" She let a chuckle slip, her hand waving slightly in a playfully dismissive motion, "The usual~."

It wasn't until he took a seat at her right side that she was even due to remember the man that paid for her. She could have, or rather, should have just thanked him for his services and sent him on his way - just because he bought her a drink didn't mean she owed him anything, that is.

"Hey..." He began - and from the look in his eye, she could immediately tell that he was a little wet behind the ears in this kind of interaction. The poor boy had probably barely come in contact with a girl that wasn't his family before, "...I um. I haven't seen you around. You have a name..?" The sheer awkwardness of his delivery nearly caused he to loose a laugh by mistake, but she subtly bit her lip and kept her amusement at bay.

"Verene," She sat her chin lightly against the back of her head, eyeing him intently whilst her free hand got to lifting her drink. "Any reason you so curious?"

"I- uh... I just."

"Verene," Someone else spoke up, clearly eavesdropping from one of the other tables, "I ain't never heard of a Verene anywhere before."

Her brow hiked higher, the challenge bringing a subtle smirk of entertainment to her face, "If you don't know about me - it's because I don't want you to know about me."

After so many years, she had honed her craft to be able to confidently say just that.

Verene Taube, that was the name that she had decided on. She felt it did a good job of describing her - or at least what she wanted to be. With the death of Viveka Tally came the rebirth of Verene Taube, and every moment of the new life had been invigorating - liberating.

Ever since the day her freedom came, she was plotting for a bigger future. With fortune on her side, she was able to keep it up without suspicion. She played the role of the woman that appeared and disappeared, who rarely showed her true face without a thick layer of makeup. The woman whose most interesting physical trait aside from those messy, short dark waves was probably the four moles dotted at different places on her face, and those weren't even real.

Of course, it took her a few years to get her hands on a makeup compact, but when she did, it set everything in motion. Some days she found a little more pocket change on the streets than others, some days she could convince a man or two to pay her tab or buy her something nice.

After she started getting bold enough, there were no longer a boundary. Eldians had limited knowledge of her, Marleyans didn't pay attention to the kind of people that floated around the Eldian ghettos for them to have the faintest clue who she was. She could mingle with both worlds, have her fun, play her games on the high society side of life, and not a soul could say she was or wasn't one race or the other.

Life was good.

For ten full years - life was good.

That was more than mostly anyone could say, let alone an Eldian that had grown up with nothing.

"Heh-heh," One of the idle officers also occupying the bar snickered under his breath. It was their down time, their shifts were over and their responsibilities finished for the day. Kicking back at a bar was a common passtime to relieve stress, and although Verene was aware of that, she felt no fear, she only kept vigilant.

"Get a load of that one, hn?" The older officer cackled, sliding the cigarette from his teeth, "A live one, you think?" It was a playful gesture, a little jab to his younger comrade that sat across from him. Said younger officer kept a gaze that read appropriately as disinterest. He likewise took up a cigarette, same as his superior, and he merely showed he was listening with a little eye contact.

"Come on now, Kruger, don't give me that look," The man huffed, upturning his cup to take a long drink. "You're too serious. You need to unwind."

The one called Kruger rose his hand that gripped the top of his cup, shaking the contents whilst continuing to look the man in his eye, "This is unwinding." It was probably going to come under fire next that he had been on the same cup for nearly the whole night thus far, but he paid that no nevermind. It wasn't as if the man was actually watching how much his subordinate drank anyhow, he was too busy indulging himself.

"Heh," He loosed another chuckle, "You know, having a woman makes this job a little bearable."

Kruger finally tore his gaze away for a moment, lifting the cup and taking a drink, himself. This sort of conversation fell on deaf ears. Despite that, it often found him. Everyone had a say in how he was supposed to be handling his life, more specifically his love life, when in truth, he hadn't the time for anything that demanding. Commitment was out of the question, and a fling was more trouble than it was worth. "The job isn't unbearable to begin with," He spoke in defense of his actions, "Weird of you to speak that way."

By this point, the man laughed heartily, leaning back fully in his chair as if it were just too much to keep him upright. "Don't get me wrong, I love what I do, but all of those extra responsibilities outside of that is a chore, isn't it? Haha!"

Verene overheard the conversation, but her mind was too entranced to take it all for what it was worth. She looked at the six cups that lined the space in front of her, then at the next she had under her hand. An easy way to get drinks, she found, instead of asking every time for another one to be bought, was simply to latch onto a partner for the night. She felt for the little generous man, she did, but that was mainly because he was so drunk that he probably spent far more than he intended. Not only would he probably not remember it in the morning, but by the time it came, she will have already been gone.

She lifted the contents of her other cup, sipping the contents idly. There was hardly anything left but it felt like a reservoir. Her face was flushed, and though it was hard to see it beneath her makeup, she could feel it. Her hands were trembling and her body was warm - she figured once she went outside and hit the brisk night air, it would help cool her down and sober her up, but leaving while she was the topic of conversation would be suspicious.

She felt her eye travel warily, looking slightly behind her and peering from the cover of her veil of waves.

'Damn it' She thought. He was looking at her. It wasn't the first time something like this had happened, and frankly if her confidence could speak for her, it was far from the first time she had caught a man staring. Still, it gave her a little anxiety, considering he was just speaking of being disinterested, only to pull this.

Not that anyone else knew, but if she got caught up in some sort of legal issue, reporting it would require her to be processed, and she was sure the government wouldn't be too keen on letting her go after drawing up a blank.

She would play it cool. She didn't know what was going through his mind, but outlasting someone at a bar was quickly becoming one of her specialties.

Kruger, on the other hand, met the tangent somewhere in thought. His personal interest, that wasn't a factor. He wasn't attracted to the woman, nor had he any reason to pursue her romantically. It was the furthest thing from his mind. What did happen to rear itself, however, was the way he caught her gazing back.

It was suspicious, wasn't it?

"If you don't know about me - it's because I don't want you to know about me."

That was what she had said. In most circumstances, that could have been chalked up as a nice little line, or a flirtatious comment, maybe even a little instance of playing coy for those drinks she had lining up across the front of the counter.

To him, it piqued his curiosity. He could sense a tension rising, one every else seemed to be oblivious to, and more than that, his responsibilities made him aware. It was easy for any normal civilian to pass off not knowing a woman, or for no one to ask questions; even some officers could turn a blind eye to that. He, however, had a responsibility that made him accutely aware not just of the faces in the Marleyan side of society, but all of the faces in the internments.

He sipped at his drink, breaking off his subtle gaze to address his superior, "What do you make of the case from today?" It was sly - subtle, but casual. His tone easily transitioned the conversation from Verene, and he knew what this would mean.

"Hoh, Kruger," The man responded, "Now you go and talk about work? That's not unwinding at all, now is it?"

Verene let a subtle sigh of relief slip into her cup. Shouldn't have been long then.

Time passed, Verene slumping with her chin in her hand for a time until she slowly stretched her arms up. She held it, pulling her spine until she felt a satisfying crack. "Well, it's been fun," She offered a subtle laugh to the bartender, adding insult to injury by dropping her first coin of the night, - only a simple, single piece of pocket change-, and being on her way.

As she figured, her drink ticket was asleep, and the officers were still at it. She looked back at the two of them, solidified in her deciding that the more attention she drew to herself, the more she seemed without fear, and thus the less suspicious she came off. She waved her fingers, tossing a wink their way, "Have a good night, officers." The older man tipped his hat, the younger one, Kruger, only watching with the same bland look in his eye.

She saw herself out, and as she hoped, when the cold air of the evening hit her, it felt like the most refreshing thing she could imagine. "One of those drinks was a little too strong..." She reasoned to herself, fanning herself whilst avoiding the urge to wipe the sweat from her brow and risk her makeup.

"He was probably trying to get me drunk faster so I'd leave." It sounded like something that senile, old bartender would pull. She huffed a breath, throwing her head back to take the wind.

She hadn't secured a place for the night, or flirted her way into someone's home...

...so it looked like wandering aimlessly was the plan for the night.

"If only I could stand," She grumbled - her feet kept getting tied, and those ragged heels that man from the month prior had bought for her were making her ankles weak. She staggered a bit, trying to keep her balance, or at the very least solidify her sight. Hazy halos and unclear street signs were the only things she could make out.

As she continued down through the alleyway, the back end of her heel caught the crack in the street, throwing her down into a pile of garbage bags. And here she thought she was past that place in her life.

"Ugh..." She muttered - her ankle felt sore and the slightest bit of pressure made it buckle. An alleyway on the Marleyan side of town was anything but ideal, but at its worst, she would be found by a few people and she would write off her drunken state as an excuse. They feel sympathy for her because of being a woman, she makes her way back to wherever she's going for the day, sober, and the problem was solved.

'So I guess I'm staying here for the night.'

"You have a good evening now," The older officer bid his farewells to the bartender, lighting yet another cigarette to settle against his lips. He turned to his subordinate, idly waving him off, "Same to you." He had a feeling Kruger wouldn't just call it a night and head home; the boy always had work on his mind one way or another, but that was none of his business. He, himself, would be heading home and hitting the hay, he would just be caught up in the morning.

"Night," Kruger stood with his hands in his pockets, watching his superior go on his way. It felt surreal that he managed to keep to the same drink the whole night by just disguising his subtle sips as thirsty gulps. He preferred to be sober, typically, and getting drunk with his superior, of all people, hardly followed that preference.

Besides, there was something else on his mind.

He had seen that girl - Verene, they called her. She was walking around that area, maybe somewhat off to the left. He tended to follow his gut feeling, and they hardly led him astray. He was well-informed, and though he would hardly be the one to brag about it, well-versed in torture. Knowing the human mind was just an obvious requirement derived from that job field.

He caught changes in her behavior, actions that just didn't add up. Not to mention what seemed like a planned departure; something wasn't right there, and there were two options afoot, -and a third that was just plain unlikely.

Option 1: She's up to something, or is planning something that required her to stay out of the sight of officials.

Option 2: She wasn't who she claimed to be, and so had to avoid her identity becoming widespread.

Option 3: However unlikely, option 3 was that his hunch was wrong.

That, he just didn't believe, but this brought him to his next question.

"Where'd she go then?" He asked himself idly, backtracking to the mouth of the alley. It seemed like there would be nothing to achieve by taking a route down an alleyway, no reason for it. If she were running from something, walking into a wide, visible passage down a typically heavily-trafficked street would have been the worst possible decision...

"Mn..."

'...or she's not as smart as she seems.' He overrode his previous thought, reaching into his utility to grab a flashlight. He flicked the switch, and lying there amidst the trash, there she was. His only dilemma now, was what to do next.